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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245462">A Strange Request at a Piano Bar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracien/pseuds/Dracien'>Dracien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Write The Story Journal [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Before Battle, Bilbo Adds the Words, Bilbo Baggins-Centric, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Light Angst, POV Bilbo Baggins, They Make a Song, Thorin plays the harp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:09:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracien/pseuds/Dracien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo decides to explore during a moment of quiet in the dark halls of Erebor.  He comes across a room with a large ornate harp upon a stage surrounded by tables, chairs and booths, and a long counter that reminds him of a Shire tavern. He is joined by Thorin and the two share a moment of peace while fulfilling a strange request.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Write The Story Journal [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Strange Request at a Piano Bar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Howdy all, </p>
<p>First off, thanks for checking this fic out. It was a self-imposed challenge from this journal of writing prompts I got recently. The journal is called "write the story" and has a one line prompt with a word bank to try to include as you write. The first prompt is "A Strange Request at a Piano Bar" and I had my lovely Beta Scribe_of_the_Fey (check them out and send them your love) provide the fandom and a few tags to include and this is what I came up with. </p>
<p>I hope you all enjoy and see if you can find the words from the word bank I included (I managed to get them all in, but it was a literary work out).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Darkness consumes the halls of the Lonely Mountain Kingdom Erebor. Even with the dragon gone, the blight left in its wake still lingers. The corners of rooms devour what little light is provided by the recently rekindled forges. What little light remains blooms from the small section of caves claimed by a baker’s dozen Dwarrow and their Hobbit companion. The Dwarrow circle around a medium sized campfire with high spirits and great cheer. They pass around extra food rations and a keg of prime Dwarven ale that has aged wonderfully in a holding room near the central hall. The barrels miraculously intact despite the dragon’s residency.</p>
<p>Not all of the current inhabitants of Erebor sit around the fire spreading cheer and happiness at the reclamation of the Dwarven kingdom. Bilbo Baggins, the lone Hobbit so far from the Shire, has found himself wandering the halls once more. Since he didn’t get much of a chance to really see much of the mountain kingdom during his desperate search for the Arkenstone, and then the subsequent run from an enraged dragon, he feels like he missed it. Now, he takes a torch with him and makes sure to take the time to truly appreciate the underground kingdom, the home, that his Dwarven companions spoke of so fondly.  </p>
<p>Bilbo knows that their different cultures and values create a rather large gap in perception, but he feels like he has learned a lot while traveling with the Company. He enters a room filled with shields and helmets.  The gear is surprisingly intact and not suffering degradation often found as a result of oxidation on the metals.  His grass green eyes take in the intricate geometric designs and the shine of inlaid gemstones. They are nothing like the typical woven styles and earthy tones that Hobbits prefer, but Bilbo thinks he can understand the appeal. He certainly is awed by the level of fine detail wrought from the large and thick hands he knows Dwarrow are known for. Bilbo continues his circle of the room. He takes in the chest pieces and the boots, the armored gloves and shoulder gear. Each piece of metal Crafted, not simply made. Bilbo’s fingers tail along a few pieces of chainmail, each link smaller than the nail on his smallest finger, yet projecting an aura of impenetrability.</p>
<p>The Hobbit continues to the next room over. In an equal and opposite theme, weapons of all types greet him. Swords, spears, hammers and axes line the walls all the way up to the very high ceiling. These pieces of metal work also contain their own type of artistry. The geometric shaping is not as detailed as those found in the armory, no doubt in order to protect the structural integrity of the equipment. The weapons too, much like the armor, were bedecked in jewels. Also, much like in the previous room, though Bilbo cannot claim complete understanding, he still manages to appreciate some of the beauty around him. </p>
<p>This pattern continues with each new room Bilbo explores. He explores a room with all sorts of tools, some recognizes, most he doesn’t. The Hobbit enters rooms that look like storage, rooms that look like workshops with materials all over, rooms that, despite their obviously Dwarven design, remind him of the seasonal carnivals underneath the party tree. With each new room, the Hobbit lights whatever lanterns he can find with his torch to better illuminate his perusal. Finally, he enters a room that he doesn’t quite have a description for. </p>
<p>There are tables and chairs strewn around the room, a few booths along the edges and one wall has shelves of colorful bottles clearly containing alcohol. The furniture is all intricately carved from stone, but unlike everything else Bilbo has seen, it is not liberally decorated with jewels. The tables all have plates and cups that look like they were once filled with food and drink, but now any foodstuff has  completely disintegrated. Everything is coated with a thick layer of dust from disuse. The room gives off an overall feeling of a purpose to gather and be merry but with sudden abandonment. Bilbo can see that the room was in use just before the dragon arrived. Some chairs are tipped over and a few plates can be seen haphazardly on the ground.</p>
<p>Most of the Hobbit’s attention is drawn to one of the corners of the room where a stage stands at knee height. In the middle of the stage stands a tall ornate stringed instrument. The harp is simple and elegant in design with complex carvings along the frame and studded with gemstones as small as a single grain of corn giving it an aura of both modesty and splendor. Bilbo steps up onto the stage and takes three strides to stand in front of the harp. He reaches out and plucks a few of the strings. They begin to reverberate and the vibrations begin to shake the dust off. Bilbo waves his hand in front of his face to dispel the dust cloud that formed from the dispelled dirt. He coughs a few times but settles quickly.  </p>
<p>“You play?” The deep voice startles Bilbo so badly both his feet lift off the ground. With a rapidly beating heart Bilbo turns to see Thorin standing just a few steps behind him. The Hobbit looks the Dwarven Royal up and down and takes in all of the other’s ornate finery. Thorin wears several layers of furred cloaks with golden threads woven into complicated traditional Dwarven designs. He has thick and sturdy armored gloves with matching boots that both used to be a shining gold, but are now dulled from so long without proper care. The entire ensemble is topped off with a large crown that perfectly presents the harsh angles of Dwarven design while also projecting a sturdy strength. </p>
<p>Even though Bilbo can objectively appreciate the sharp geometric shapes and fine detail on all of the royal attire, his Hobbit raised eyes can only stare and wonder how much more weight the Dwarf in front of him is carrying. Bilbo shakes off his appraisal and looks into the blue eyes looking back into his own. “Uh, No, not at all.” He gives a huff and strained smile. The last time Bilbo saw the Dwarf in front of him, Thorin was walking through the mountains of gold in the treasury with eyes glazed and frosty. Bilbo releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. </p>
<p>“I do.” Thorin replies with a small smile. He gazes back at the instrument. “It created a bit of a stir among the nobles and high families. There was a bit of a controversy about harps at the time. Some said they were the instrument of elves, too delicate, others claimed the shape and purpose of the soundbox was clearly from Dwarven ingenuity, while others still could rant for hours about the instrument actually being created by the Menfolk and therefore it is the Dwarrow’s duty to perfect the design.” Thorin takes a few steps forward. His boots loudly clatter in the silence of the room. The Royal Dwarf plucks a few strings, just as Bilbo had done earlier. “My mother ignored them all with perfect grace befitting a royal and set out to teach me once I expressed my interest.” Blue eyes begin to glaze over, but they weren’t the cold chips of ice Bilbo remembers from the treasure room; they were more a warm blue of a clear summer’s day, fondly reminiscing on a happy memory. </p>
<p>“My mother would play here often, in this Music Bar. I would sit at the counter with my apple juice and listen with all the others. She would have a sassafras tea next to her because she likes the confused faces of everyone that would ask what she was drinking.” Thorin’s blue eyes shift and focus on the confused face of the Hobbit next to him and he chuckles. “Kind of like that. What is it Bilbo? I thought one such as yourself would know of the plant.” The teasing voice startles a slight laugh out of the Hobbit.</p>
<p>Bilbo makes a great showing of folding his arms and expressing a juvenile pout while he responds. “Excuse me. Not ALL Hobbits are knowledgeable on EVERY plant in existence, Thorin Oakenshield. Especially ones so far from the Shire. I’ll have you know it is not polite to make such assumptions just because I am a Hobbit.” </p>
<p>Thorin releases a deep and soft chuckle at Bilbo’s words. “Peace, Bilbo. I do apologize for the stereotype.” His voice grows softer, “It just seems that you are always the one to share information about the nearby plants while the others in the Company have been explaining things to you about metals and gemstones. I suppose I was simply a bit excited to be the one to share knowledge with you.” There is a long pause as Hobbit and Dwarf stare into each other’s eyes. They both seem to shake themselves out of their strange trance and Thorin gestures back to the harp. “Would you like me to teach you a bit?”</p>
<p>Bilbo waves both his hands in front of him in a negative gesture, “Oh, no I couldn’t possibly.” His sleeve on his right arm rides up a little, revealing some bandages. “I sorta sprained my wrist while we were running away from that big dragon that was here earlier. Oin is sure to kick up quite the fuss if I were to strain it.” The two stand in silence once more and continue to stare at one another.</p>
<p>Thorin steps to the side and gracefully sits on the stool placed before the harp. “Then, how about I play something instead. Care to make a suggestion?” </p>
<p>Bilbo slightly startles at the sudden movement and struggles to think. A few songs and tunes pass through his mind, most of them from Shire festivals and a few tavern rounds. “I... Uh... Don’t know any Dwarven songs... and I’m not too sure you know anything from the Shire...” He tails off uncertainly and shuffles his feet. Thorin’s drooping shoulders almost go unnoticed by the Hobbit, but Bilbo does catch the slight movement. There is another long pause between the two. Before it can get too awkward, Bilbo offers up, “Well... There is this... walking song that I have been sorta working on for a bit now. I am still working on a few of the words and I haven’t really thought of a proper tune for it either.“ </p>
<p>Thorin, catching onto Bilbo’s attempt, perks up slightly. “A strange request for certain. Asking a performer to complete your work for you.” Before Bilbo can start to splutter denials Thorin continues, “Well, let’s finish it then.” He plucks a few chords in a scale. Dust still falls from the vibrations, but much less than the first few times. “What are the first lines?” Thorin’s question still manages to catch Bilbo a little off guard.</p>
<p>The Hobbit notices an ease in the Dwarf’s shoulders that hadn’t been there before. “Uh... well, it starts: Road goes ever on, around the bend and by a tree.” </p>
<p>Thorin plucks a few strings, places his palm along the instrument a few times to stop the sound and start again. Then his blue eyes flick toward Bilbo and back to the harp. “If I may be so bold as to suggest,” his voice is hesitant, “Since you will be co-authoring this song with a Dwarf, perhaps some mention of stone would be apt.”</p>
<p>A smile threatens to climb onto Bilbo’s face, but he manages to stay serious as he says, “Is that so? Well, who am I to argue with the musician. Then how about...” He pauses to think for a few moments, while Thorin continues to pluck at strings using the syllable count from the first line. Bilbo perks up, “Okay, how about this: Road goes ever on, over rock and under tree, by caves where never sun has-“ He cuts off with a start as the smooth tune of the harp crashes. Bilbo looks up to see that the leather ties of one of Thorin’s gloves has tangled in the harp strings. The Dwarf stares at the heavy bracer like he just noticed it’s bulk. Bilbo slowly reaches toward the tangle of strings and unties the straps, “Perhaps for now this would be better placed elsewhere.”</p>
<p>Thorin nods his agreement and helps to untie the one on his other hand as well. Bilbo stands there unsure with both gloves in his hands until Thorin suggests placing them on the small end table. “That is where the musician usually leaves a drink or personal effect.” Bilbo complies, “Now,” Thorin resets himself in front of the harp, “Where were we.” </p>
<p>Bilbo flashes a quick smile and repeats the line, “By caves where never sun has shone.” Thorin repeats a few chords and asks Bilbo to repeat from the beginning. The Hobbit does so, and this time the music from the harp and the gentle tenor of his voice seem to sync and fill the room with the pleasant forming of the song. They both quirk giddy smiles at each other. “So, here is a bit of a block. I have already decided that I want to rhyme ‘tree’ with ‘sea’, but haven’t thought of anything to go with it.”</p>
<p>Thorin lets out a deep hum in thought. “Well, the previous line is about light not reaching a cave. Being much more experienced with caves than I think you are, I feel it is my duty to inform you that deep caves usually don’t get sun, that is why they are caves.” Bilbo flashes a decidedly unimpressed look toward his companion. Thorin continues on with a smirk, “Since that is something expected, how about the next line being equal and opposite.” At the Hobbit’s questioning look, he continues, “It is expected for the sun to never shine in a cave, so what would be expected to go to the sea, but... not...?” </p>
<p>Thorin looks equally confused by the words coming out of his mouth. Bilbo turns inward and thinks on the other’s words. “Something expected to go to the sea, but not...” He twiddles his thumbs absentmindedly in thought, “Well... a river usually flows into the sea, but sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it flows into a lake.” Thorin turns back to the harp and plays the first few chords again. Bilbo follows along, “Road goes ever on, over rock and under tree, by caves where never sun has shown, by rivers that never find the sea.” The music breaks off a single beat before the words.</p>
<p>Thorin quickly mentions, “The syllable count doesn’t match. What is another word for river?” Bilbo offers up ‘stream’ and they repeat the lines with the altered word and end on the same beat. The grins on the two’s faces grow. Thorin sits up a little straighter and shifts one heavy boot that accidentally knocks into the harp causing the instrument to shudder and loudly protest the treatment. Dwarf and Hobbit glance down at the bulky footwear. Bilbo glances at his own unadorned feet. Thorin hesitantly offers, “Well, since we are crossing Dwarven and Hobbit ideas, I suppose I can also make some adjustments.” A few minutes later, Thorin has removed both boots and stands in his sock clad feet. </p>
<p>Bilbo shakes as he struggles not to laugh at the size difference between them. For the entire journey he has been almost ridiculed by the Company for his smaller stature and other proportions. Now though, his own respectably sized feet ‘dwarf’ Thorin’s in comparison and the irony is far beyond the royal sitting once more in front of the harp. “This next part,” He manages to struggle out without laughing, “I have already got.” Thorin looks at his companion in question, but plays a few chords while listening to the next words. “So, we’ve got: By caves where never sun has shown, by streams that never find the sea. Then: Over snow by winter sown, and through the merry flowers of June.” </p>
<p>The Dwarf plays a few chords and asks Bilbo to start from the beginning again. They go through the previous parts of the song. Bilbo speaks softly with lilting tones and follows Thorin’s musical lead. Once they finish again, their smiles are large and crinkle their eyes slightly. Thorin offers up, “Excellent, now some more Hobbit/Dwarf combinations.” </p>
<p>Bilbo releases a giggle at the playful order, for it can be nothing but a regal decree. “Okay, how about: Over grass and over stone.” He pauses and thinks about his experiences since he has left his home in the Shire. The new worlds that the Company have shown him. “And under mountains in the moon.” Thorin takes the words and turns back to the harp. Bilbo’s eyes, however, stay on the Dwarf in front of him.  Green eyes take in the slowly relaxing line of his shoulders and the stress from his brow has nearly melted away. Bilbo isn’t sure that he has ever seen the Royal Dwarf so relaxed, not even at Boern’s.</p>
<p>Thorin reaches farther along the harp for a gentle crescendo and a few of the hairs from the furs tangle in the harp strings altering the sound. They release from the instrument easily, but a few hairs are pulled out and stick. Thorin absentmindedly pulls the hairs from the harp with a look of concentration on his face. “This is supposed to be a walking song. While walking isn’t a fast-paced activity, it still has a certain tempo to keep... It’s a bit slow...” The Dwarven Royal tails off as his dark blue eyes shift toward his arms; more precisely, they shift to the heavy cloak weighing down his arms. </p>
<p>Thorin stands up again and smoothly removes the thick ornate furs to reveal lighter under armor no less intricate in design, but closer to the worn thickness of his travel gear. The Dwarf looks like his previous leader-of-a-lost-people self, but with an added sense of regality.  Thorin Oakenshield wears modest Royalty very well.  Bilbo carefully doesn’t comment. Instead, the Hobbit suggests with a small smile, “Well, shall we try again, but this time with a bit of a bounce?” Thorin tips his head in agreement and they begin again from the top with playful grins. </p>
<p>Bilbo sings while Thorin plays, and both are bouncing their heads with the increased pace of the music. Bilbo’s eyes stay on the Dwarf in front of him. He can see a new light entering the other’s eyes that seems to brighten the entire room and Bilbo is helpless to look away. The Hobbit is sure that his companion has never felt this light and free for many many decades and secretly feels smug to be the one to put it there.  A warmth begins to fill Bilbo’s chest. “I’ve already got the next part done.” </p>
<p>Thorin flashes him a brighter smile and asks for the words. “Let’s hear it then, Bilbo.”</p>
<p>Green eyes meet blue.  Images of lazy days on a bench at BagEnd meeting up with memories of sitting around a campfire after the sun has gone down align perfectly. “Road goes ever on, under cloud and under star.” Thorin doesn’t immediately turn back to the harp. He seems content to wait and listen for the next words that he knows will come. Bilbo feels the warmth in his chest grow. He knows that he could never disappoint the Dwarf in front of him and that he would never want to. “Yet feet that wandering have gone, turn at last to home afar.” </p>
<p>As the word ‘home’ leaves his lips, the smile on Thorin’s face seems to soften. Only then does the Dwarf turn back to the harp and strum a few chords starting from the bouncing high of the previous lines and ending with a gentle trailing of notes.   Without waiting for any cue, Thorin begins to play the first notes again, and Bilbo follows along, repeating the words of the now-complete walking song.  The two bounce along with the playful tune and Bilbo throws in a few Hobbit dancing steps, much to the delight of his Dwarven companion. By the end of the final rendition, both are laughing and feeling lighter than they have since the quest began. </p>
<p>Green eyes latch onto a bead of sweat as it rolls down the side of Thorin’s head. The Royal Dwarf reaches up to swipe it off, but bumps into the thick crown on his brow. There is a flash of surprise on Thorin’s face as he reaches up to remove the heavy piece of metal. Bilbo can see the moment that the Dwarf realizes what he has done.  The previous joy on his face is slammed behind a stern, near angry, mask of stone. Quickly, almost violently, Thorin places the crown back on his head and re-adorns himself with the ornate gear.  “Such things are of the past now.  I hope you are satisfied with this frivolous whim. We need to hurry and find the Arkenstone. There is still much to be done. We cannot sit idly while our enemies plot against us.”</p>
<p>Thorin leaves the music bar in a majestic twirl of Royal finery with his head held high and shoulders back: the bearing of King expecting his words to be followed. Bilbo watches with pained eyes. The bubbly warmth that had grown in his chest while they worked together on the song has been replaced with an icy spike.  He knows that under all of that heavy and gaudy posturing the Thorin Oakenshield that led them on their difficult journey still lives. Bilbo pats the large lump in his pocket and becomes more determined to try and bring the previous Thorin Oakenshield out from under the shackles of Gold Madness.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>ᐳ     ᐳ     ᐳ     ᐳ     ᐳ     ᐳ     ᐳ     ᐳ     ᐳ     ᐳ     ⤧     ᐸ     ᐸ     ᐸ     ᐸ     ᐸ     ᐸ     ᐸ     ᐸ     ᐸ     ᐸ</p>
</div><p>Standing atop the final hill, Bilbo looks upon the Shire with hollow eyes. He has already said his goodbyes to Gandalf, the wizard kind enough to accompany him on his way back to the land of Hobbits. For all that the rolling hills have stayed much the same as before he left, Bilbo still feels as if the sprawling fields are somehow different.  Then an idea hits him, that perhaps it is him that is different.  </p>
<p>A sweet wind blows his curls across his face. Their length much longer than his respectability usually allows them, as finding a proper barber while on the road is an effort in futility.  While on that wind Bilbo thinks he can hear a tune. An impossible tune as the hands that created it can no longer pluck the strings of a harp.</p>
<p>Bilbo tightens his grip on his pack and allows the imagined sound to fill his heart while he begins walking the final stretch of road to BagEnd.  He takes each step in time to the rhythm of his own personal orchestra of one. </p>
<p>
<br/>

</p>
<p>
  <i>Roads go ever on,<br/>
Over rock and under tree,<br/>
By caves where never sun has shone,<br/>
By streams that never find the sea;<br/>
Over snow by winter sown,<br/>
And through the merry flowers of June,<br/>
Over grass and over stone,<br/>
And under maintains in the moon.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pauses for the short interlude between stanzas. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<br/>

</p>
<p>
  <i>Roads go ever on<br/>
Under cloud and under star,<br/>
Yet feet that wandering have gone<br/>
Turn at last to home afar.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His voice quivers on ‘home’. A word that has changed its meaning so many times throughout his journey.  The music in his mind stops abruptly, almost jarringly.  He can feel the next lines on the tip of his tongue.  He knows the proper accompanying music will reflect the first verse, but he can’t seem to hear anything.  Those large calloused hands never played over the next words and they never will. Still, Bilbo continues, for himself, if nothing else, as an attempt to honor the one that has touched his life in so many ways and to always remember that  the journey doesn’t stop just because you have reached your intended destination. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<br/>

</p>
<p>
  <i>Eyes that fire and sword have seen<br/>
And horror in the halls of stone<br/>
Look at last on meadows green<br/>
And trees and hills they long have known.</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I must say it was a wonderful challenge to write this.  It was mostly an effort to help me feel accomplished, since my other fics are sort of suffering right now and I get discouraged the longer it takes me to post something. </p>
<p>So, here is the beginning of a new series of unrelated prompts to provide myself with small victories.</p>
<p>For more information about my and my works please visit:</p>
<p>https://ao3dracien.tumblr.com/</p>
<p>My  next prompt is : "A Family Mystery Uncovered"</p>
<p>Please leave a comment with a fandom, some characters, and some tags and I will pick one that I feel I can write a good one for.  I'll mention your username in the beginning notes.  ^w^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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